"But I did," declared Peter.
Both men ejected a still-smoking cartridge from their respective guns. They had fired simultaneously and the report had prevented each sportsman from hearing the other's shot.
"Honours even," cried the spy. "It was certainly remarkable."
"Very," agreed Barcroft as he reloaded.
The first enclosure produced no further trophy. Scaling the low wall the two men gained the second stretch of grazing land. Here the cover was slightly greater in extent.
"That's a favourite warren," said Barcroft, pointing to an irregular line of bushes. "You take the left side and I'll work round to the right. Ten to one you'll get a rattling good shot there. I'll keep the dogs with me."
The sportsmen separated. Von Eitelwurmer, treading softly and crouching under the bushes, allowed three rabbits to bolt almost under his nose. It was not through preoccupation of mind but by deliberate intent.
Once he stumbled over an exposed rock, and dropped his gun.
"That's the second time. This snow is dangerous," he muttered with a curse. "Is it an omen? And on the last occasion I nearly gave myself away."
He stopped to wipe some melting snow from the stock of his gun, wiping the walnut wood carefully in order to ensure a good grip; then still crouching, he continued his way.